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Stunned to find a rose-breasted grosbeak at the feeder this week. I never saw one before. It’s song is “like that of the robin, only as sung by an opera singer, being mellower and more sweetly melodic.”
. . . → Read More: Saturday Snaps: The Beauty of Rose
We are at Steak and Shake. “Takhomasak,” gleams the neon sign over the counter. It was years before I realized this wasn’t a Japanese joint. It’s all in the perception and the accent. “Car, table, counter, or takhomasak?” Dennis and I spoon chocolate malt from shared glass. The cherry is mine. As always. I feel a little brushing on my hair and . . . → Read More: Fuel for the Weekend: Just Josiah Sometimes joy hides right in the open.
Waits for me to notice. Thrums with sweet surprises to melt life bitter. While I look squinty eyed right at her. Or past her. Or through her. But with my God-tinted lenses, I see her. In . . . → Read More: Through and Through Life: Celebrating Joy in Photos
Flubber. That was the word I grasped for yesterday when a friend asked how my writing was coming along. The Putty Grampa has morphed into silly putty. Flubberized. He’s exploded, and pieces are bouncing off my brain. He started as a simple glob based on less than a thimbleful of my dad’s wispy memories. I thought I knew where I . . . → Read More: Window on Writing: The Putty Grampa Flubberized
Everywhere I turn these days, it’s about the heart. There’s the one that beats within my chest. The one for which I have to wear this goofy event monitor for a whole month and then stress it in a couple of days. The one that controls my physical body. But there’s also the one that controls my spirit. We’ve . . . → Read More: Textures of Text: King of My Heart
A Roman-sealed stone could not hold Him. God unwrapped in Jesus. Grave clothes shed. Death defied. Prison break. Freed to free. Forever fourth day. ******** Plummeted in darkness. Possessed by my possessions. I follow phantom gods. Arms outstretched, He calls my . . . → Read More: Monday Meditation: The Middle of Midnight Why do you look for the living
among the dead?
He is not here.
HE. IS. RISEN! Luke 24:5-6 (NIV)
Resurrection Blessings,
. . . → Read More: Sunday Seasoned Sayings: He. Is. Risen! Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. ~Luke 9:23
. . . → Read More: Saturday Snaps: Contemplating the Cross They did not thirst when he led them through the deserts; he made water flow for them from the rock; he split the rock and water gushed out. ~Isaiah 48:21 (NIV)
I thirst. I don’t know if the words shook me awake a couple weeks ago or if they waited on my headboard to pierce my . . . → Read More: Fuel for the Weekend: I Thirst
I spoke once, maybe twice that day. Given my best, and what energy remained leaked through the cold metal of the folding chair and pooled on the floor. We sat towards the back of the conference room, and I wanted to be engaged with what the next speaker shared. But my head hurt, and my feet ached. And . . . → Read More: God on His Knees |
  Be a deep see diver. Deep See Diving     
    
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Copyright © 2012 Sandra Heska King - All Rights Reserved |
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American Christian
Fiction Writers
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